


Of Naught That Is Pale and Resplendant (ONTPR)

by HekaDanka (Gayyams)



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24788542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gayyams/pseuds/HekaDanka
Summary: A goddess reawakens and attempts to sew her broken kingdom back together. A gift she has given away, that she shall never allow to fall into horrid hands again.The White Lady walks, and she will grow.
Relationships: Dryya/White Lady (Hollow Knight), Nailmaster Mato/Quirrel (Hollow Knight), Traitor Lord's Daughter/Ze'mer | Grey Mourner
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	1. CH 1 -- GRAVESTONE

There is a gravestone that the White Lady had not seen before. It was simple, with words in Mantis etched onto the stone with care and precision. She sat in front of it, loyal knight sleeping close by where the White Lady had set her, and carefully ran her hand over the surface. A child, just a child. In love. She could feel the ghost watching her, the lingering spirit awaiting someone. Something. A gift the Lady could not give.

The room was dangerous to enter, with harsh thorns that tugged at the old dress Lady wore. But she could tell it was chosen with purpose, a reason for its secrecy. A disagreement, a sobbed goodbye. The memories lingered, and Lady wept with the spirit. It was all she believed she could do. But her tears soaked the grasses below the grave, and they grew like wildfire. A sudden sharp rise in the foliage that encircled the gravestone. A gift. A gift!

The White Lady stood then, brushing thorns from her dress. She reached up and gently snapped one of her branches off, and offered it to the vines. They grew around it and brought it into themselves, circling it like snakes, devouring it. Embracing it. A mother's kindnesses, a mother's love. Lady watched with bated breaths, unable to believe her barely functional eyes. A white bloom that decayed and bore fruit. A fruit that gently sat upon the ground, cradled by thorns and wishes and regrets and love and wonder and innocence. The fruit broke open after a minute, and sat in the goo of creation that smelled of citrus and flowers, was a child. The Traitor's Child, as she had been before. As she had been when she had loved. 

The White Lady took the child into her arms, brushing off the dew of her creation. This was... unprecedented. Lady had never done this before. Given life to the dead, remade a previous creation taken too soon. The Child stared up at its creator, trembling ever so slightly. Yes! Words. Maybe words would help. 

"Greetings, small one." Came the soft voice of the Lady. The Child struggled free from the grip and alighted on the ground. She shook her wings out, freeing them from the sticky fruit's innards, and turned to stare up at the massive, but less so, White Lady. "Have I alarmed you?" 

"No." Came the Child's sharp reply. "Though I would have not expected to be revived by my father's enemy." 

"Enemy? Your father may have hated me, Child, but I never sought to do him any harm." The White Lady slowly kneeled, opening har arms. Not to beg for forgiveness, no, to show her belly. To offer her most vulnerable spot to show her harmlessness. She would be no threat. 

"Kirir. My name is Kirir." The Traitor's Child--er, Kirir, relaxes slightly. This root must be no harm to her, surely. Not with a stance like that. "Why... what are you... What are you doing here?" 

"I live here." Lady replies simply, folding her hands in her lap. "I was on my way to leave, to rediscover what my kingdom has become, and hopefully... Hopefully fix my many mistakes." 

"No, you--ugh. Why are you at my--" Kirir coughs and looks away suddenly, averting her gaze from the Lady and her soft gaze. "--my grave?" 

"You were not enshrined here the time I moved last. I was curious as to what had occured, what ended you... What pain you must have endured." 

"Pain? You do NOT know the half of it! I find and, er, fall in love with someone of the strongest league of bugs in Hallownest, and my aunts, they hated her! I found the most amazing, strong, confident bug in all of Hallownest, and they denounce my love for being an outsider!" Kirir's armour raises as she brings her shoulders up, hatefully glaring at the ground. "And when I convince my father that their ways are wrong, he--he falls to that awful, awful force. That terrible orange gas that, that broke him. That tore him away. That--that made him..." 

"Kirir." Came the gentle voice of the White Lady. "Kirir, you needn't speak of it any more. I understand. Would... you like to leave this place? I have a..." Lady looked at the ground, before shaking her head. "I have a task I must complete." She gracefully motions to the corpse of her most beloved knight, Dryya. Kirir follows her hand, and covers her mouth with a clawed arm. 

"She... That's one of my..." Kirir is quiet, looking at the White Lady, then to the corpse. "We are... Similar. In a way. I... Yes. I think I will accompany you. I do require a nail, though." 

"A nail?" The White Lady stood carefully, approaching the body of Dryya that still held her long, thin nail. Kirir approached and stood at the White Lady's side, peering down at the body. "She still has hers..." 

There is a long moment of silence, where neither woman nor girl wished to connect gazes. They knew it would have to happen, the removal of the body's nail. But... it can always be given back, right? With a soft sigh, so delicate, the White Lady took the nail from Dryya's clenched hands and offered it, without looking, to the Traitor's Child. 

"Thank... you. And her. Dryya, right?" Kirir is hesitant to take the nail, but she does, the fingers beneath her clawed arms allowing her to hold the weapon. She swung it a few times, and once getting a feel for it, gently threaded it through a hook on her back. Unused for... whatever, whatever! It's not important. 

"Fierce Dryya."The White Lady confirms, before leaning down to lift the corpse into her arms. Kirir watched her, almost confused, but decided not to really question it. The two left that tunnel, Kirir expertly leaping over the thorns, while Lady simply glided over them as if they were not there at all.

They picked their way carefully down, towards a Stag Station the Lady knew would be there. But, contrary to her belief, the door was closed. Lady sighed, and turned to ask Kirir where the best exit was, but the child was gone.

With a soft sound of pain, the Lady lowered into a sitting position. She would be alone in this journey yet. She wondered where the child had gone. And what had become of her Gardens, if the door to escape was closed. How many lost their lives here? How many were trapped in this place, now flush with thorns and agony and--and the click of a door. 

The White Lady turned around, and peered down at the Traitor's Child who stood now in the doorway. "Come on. Were you crying? Ma'am, try and keep yourself together, gods." Kirir turned around, not showing her slight exhaustion from running all the way to the other side of the Station she KNEW some good for nothing city bugs had closed in panic when her father descended upon them, trapping and dooming more of their pitiful people in the Gardens. 

Lady stood quickly and followed, half-blind eyes blinking blearily, getting rid of as many of the tears as she could. "Of course." She whispered, voice barely audible with the soft tap of Kirir's feet. 

The woman and child stood at the Stag Station, and wondered to themselves if the world was ready. Because they were not.


	2. CH 2 - STAGGER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is @of-pale-flowers-and-mist  
> my discord server code is GasqqFS 
> 
> MAJOR POV: Kirir (Traitor's Child)  
> CHARACTERS: Kirir (Traitor's Child), The White Lady, Quirrel  
> WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, mentions of suicide attempts
> 
> EXTRA: https://youtu.be/aIk06SOeViY a kirir song...

Kirir woke with a start, grabbing at her chest. But where she had expected to find a wound, there was none. No blood, no... She breathed hard and gathered herself, eyes blearily looking around. Lady lays in her bush bed she had grown to cup her body, ignorant to the terror that rushed through Kirir seconds ago. Was it gone, that terror? The thought of her death? Her death at... No, no, no, she shouldn't think of it. Can't get emotional, can't think about that. 

Kirir stands, brushing leaves off her cloak and adjusting her armour. A gift, custom made by Ze'mer herself, that made Kirir feel safe. Well. Not safe enough, looking back at the nightmare she just had, but safer than if she didn't have a token of her girlfriends esteem. Kirir nudged Lady with her foot, grumbling about this or that. 

"Come, woman. We have to move at some point." Kirir barked as she just straight up kicked the pale being. Lady turned around slowly, eyes dull with barely being awake. Kirir rolled her eyes and grabbed at the massive woman, pulling her as hard as the mantis could. Lady didn't move too much, but the struggle woke her up a bit more. 

"Firmal?" The Old Queen mumbled, blinking slowly up at Kirir. Kirir took a sharp step back, before growling. 

"No, I am not Firmal! I am Kirir, now get up! We have places to be, you old woman." Kirir came at Lady again and tugged at the arm that had attempted to cup her face. She knew of Firmal, and the rage of being confused for one of her aunts was hot, and burned in her stomach. But that might be partially that Kirir hadn't eaten yet, but still! 

"Kirir... Oh. You must forgive me, child--" Kirir growls again. "--forgive me, Kirir, I... forget things so easily. You look so much like her..." 

"Yes, we're related. Now can you shut up and get going? I have to hunt because one of us actually has to eat." Kirir taps her foot against the stone ground, eyes cast to the side to look deeper into the Queen's Gardens. "Since your kingdom's stags seem to hate doing their job, we are forced to walk all the way to the Resting Grounds ourselves. So at least have the decency to get up and move." 

Lady hums softly in thought as she rises. "I can see the family resemblance." A teasing remark that makes Kirir's antennae flare in anger. Kirir shoves past White Lady and out of the cave they had camped in, immediately storming off to hunt a loodle or something. 

Hours later, the two find themselves at the edge of the Gardens. White Lady is half slumped over, chest rising and falling quickly with her haggard breaths. Kirir is at her side, holding her up with a dull expression. This was as close as Kirir had ever come to helping an old woman across a street, and Kirir was absolutely done with it. The second Lady could sit on a planting box, Kirir was away from her side. 

"What's past here this way, woman?" Kirir asked, whipping her nail around in the air for practice with its weight. 

"Fog Canyon. Within is the Teacher's Archives. I wonder... Are they empty now, with the Teacher gone?" Lady cradled Dryya delicately in her strong root arms, the corpse as still as it had ever been. 

"Hell if I know. I've only ever been in two places, Fungal Wastes and your gardens." Kirir leapt into the air and stabbed down on a floating mossfly, pinning it to the ground. She carefully removed the nail and picked up the glorified moss ball, and yeeted it into the nearby pool of acid. 

"We shall visit, I believe. If you do not mind our straying from our course, Kirir." 

"I do, but I doubt you'd actually listen to me." Kirir mumbles bitterly, looking for another mossfly to burn. 

"I would, dear." 

"Mhm, sure, woman." 

"Umi." 

"What?" 

Lady pauses, before nodding. "My name was Umi before I was the White Lady and Queen. You call me woman, which is technically incorrect, but I will not get into talk of biology. Call me Umi." 

Kirir stares blankly, before shrugging with a profoundly confused expression. "Whatever, sure. Let's go see your Teacher." 

Umi and Kirir are silent as they gather their strength. But, after a while, Umi stands once more and motions for Kirir to sit upon her shoulders so they may cross the lake of acid. Kirir is hesitant, but agrees. With the traitor's child on her back, Umi carefully wades into the lake of acid, completely unaffected. She holds up the corpse of Dryya to keep it from burning, and Kirir ducks to not get stabbed by thorns. Once they are across, Kirir launches off of Umi and begins walking confidently, before she remembers that she has no clue where they are going. Kirir groans and waits for Umi to pull herself from the lake. 

It doesn't take too long before Umi and Kirir enter the Teacher's Archives. Umi ducks, and politely wipes her feet on the grass outside. Kirir simply shoves in, nail ready after dealing with Oomas that would get just... too fucking close for comfort. 

"Aah? Visitors?" Came a voice from in the Archives. Kirir whipped her nail to point forward, hackles raised. While Umi did not have the hands to gently calm Kirir, she did have a hip to gently press onto Kirir's side to gove the younger woman confidence. Which it did, admittedly, but Kirir wasn't the gushy type. 

"Yes." Umi replied, voice projecting easily. "It is, erm. Umi, and a mantis." 

There is the distant sound of wood tapping mixed with a foot, and in comes Quirrel, an antennae and left leg broken. He taps over as fast as he can, eyes wide. "My Queen! A-and, erm. Mantis, Dryya... Oh. Dryya..?" 

Umi winces slightly, which Kirir would almost say might have been in shame! "N-no, no, not--er. Let us sit down and speak at length, Archival Assistant Quirrel. Or is it just, Archivist now?" 

"Just Archivist now, I am afraid." Quirrel laughs sadly, before he motions for the women to follow him. Umi immediately strides after, while Kirir waits a bit and peeks into places she shouldn't be. But when Umi calls for her, Kirir is (sadly, begrudgingly) running after. 

"Archivist Quirrel." Umi begins, hands clasped around a mug of warm tea. The three of them--and Dryya's corpse--sit at a table deeper in the Archives. Thankfully, one of the seats was made for massive bugs like Monomon, so Umi actually has a place to sit. Kirir is deeply uncomfortable, her eye shifting around , looking for something else to focus on than the steady gaze of Umi or this Quirrel guy. 

"My Lady." Quirrel replies, swirling milk into his tea before sipping carefully. 

"It is, er. Umi. The King is gone, and he shall name me no longer. It is simply Umi now." She corrects, just content to hold her tea. 

"Ah. I see. What brings you here? Or, er, out of your exile? The last I heard of you is that you secretly left the Palace a year before the Infection--" Kirir fake retches. "--and sealed yourself away." 

"Mm. That is the truth, Quirrel. I... I suppose no one really knew what was happening. My husband was doing abominable actions and I had simply gone along with them for far too long, so I decided I would, well. Force myself into my own little jail." Umi laughs softly into her tea, before setting it down. "This must be new information for you, Quirrel."

Quirrel is silent for a moment, just stirring his tea and staring blankly forward. "I suppose the King's abominable actions is the newest bit of information. Why... why exactly are you out here, traveling with... a corpse and a mantis?" 

"Kirir." Kirir interjects, rolling her eyes. 

"Y-yes. With Kirir."

"Well." Umi swirls her tea before sipping it again. "I am bringing Dryya to the Resting Grounds. After that, I am to fix all of my husbands mistakes."

Quirrel is quiet, and pulls out a small flask from a satchel on his hip and pours some of it into his tea. He then drinks. "What did the King do?" 

Umi was... quiet for a moment, before she began explaining the King's plan. From the purposeful misinformation of both the people and Umi herself, to the creation of countless children, filling them with void, throwing them back when they weren't good enough even if they managed to climb out of that dark pit. Of how Umi only realized when it was far too late, and immediately ran away. 

Quirrel is silent as the dead, and blinks once. He sets his glass of tea he had been sipping out of down and rubs his face under his mask. "Ah. Potentially millions of children. That he killed." He breathes deeply. "There is a guest room with cots a few doors down. Understandably, I have to go process all of this." 

Umi slowly stands. "I understand, Archivist. Thank you fir this kindness." She lifts Dryya into her arms, and heads down the way. Kirir stays where she is, and just stares at the place Umi had gotten up from. Quirrel notes this, and slides over the same flask he had poured the contents of into his drink. Kirir looks at it, then looks up at him, then lifts it and slams it back. Quirrel pushes his chair out and stands, and offers a small sound of goodbye. 

Kirir is about halfway through when she stops. She... kind of hates being inside. It's stuffy, and this place smells like dust and old shit. And Kirir got enough old shit smell when she walks with Umi. So she shoves her chair out and heads outside, to sit by the edge of the lake of acid that the Teacher's Archives float on. She idly sips at the flask, what she assumes to be alcohol made of watered down acid and aged popfruit from the Gardens. It burned, but not fatally. Which was damn nice. 

"Are you here to do something stupid?" Comes a voice. Kirir peers behind her to see Quirrel, again with his crutch, but also woth a few bottles in his hip bag. Kirir raises an eyebrow, and Quirrel waves a hand. "Nevermind, nevermind. You seem stronger than that." 

He sits a bit away from her, looking out over the lake. "It's pretty." She mumbles, taking another swig. "Sorry your boss is dead, old man."

Quirrel laughs, though it's hollow. He pulls a bottle from the bag and offers it to her, before taking one for himself. "Wife, actually." He corrects, voice devoid of any real bitterness. "She gave up her life for the King's plan, you know. The plan that failed." Quirrel pushes up his mask with the top of the bottle, then pulls the bottle's cork out with his teeth and takes a sip. 

"Mm. I get that. Convinced my dad to leave his xenophobic sisters behind and start a better life for himself and us and my girlfriend, then he got Infected, and convinced all his buddies to do the same." She finishes off the flask with a rough cough, and starts on the bottle. 

"Life sucks." Quirrel holds out the bottom of his bottle to her, and she clinks hers against his. "I thought you'd be trying to do the same shit I tried to pull. Just, ah. End it. See what's beyond this life." 

Kirir laughs loudly, and reaches over and slaps his back hard. "Dumbshit, it's just this but you can't move or think on anything but your pain. Last thought you had gets repeated forever in an agonizing chorus of eternity. I died once, I don't fucking plan on doing it again." 

Quirrel is cowed, and falls into a silence that doesn't last too long. "You died, huh?" 

"Mhm." Kirir leans back, kicking up a leg. "Hated it."

"Can I ask how?"

"You can. I won't fucking answer."

It's Quirrels turn to laugh. "I understand that." 

The two fall silent as they sip at their drinks, nthe world getting fuzzier at the edges. The pain numbing itself gradually. 

"How'd you break your leg?" Kirir asks, words slurred slightly. 

"Mmmgh. Tried twice. Met a, uh. Friend in Howling Cliffs, and I felt real bad for just dumping all my issues on him. I realized after he found me knocked out on the ground, half dead, that he... That I wasn't bothering him. Still felt bad, so I... told him I'd just. Be here. He visits every other week to make sure I'm okay. Two weeks in, and while I still feel like shit, but it's... nice. Y'know? His visits." Quirrel's face is flushed, but it darkens slightly. 

Kirir nods, running a hand between her antennae. "I guess, yeah. Umi is trying to do that caring shit for me but she has this fucking air about her. I'm not an equal to her, I don't think. I'm, like. Just a kid to her." She groans and flops back. "I don't wanna think about her or being dead, tell me more about your cliff boyfriend."

Quirrel sputters, spitting out his drink. It splashes down into the lake far below them. "BOYFRIEND? Mato is a, a friend, Kirir!" 

Kirir responds with uproarious laughter, her knees rising to her chest. "Oh wyrm, yeah no you have it bad! Ask him out, holy shit? If he's so dedicated to you to visit, what'd you say, twice a week, he must have it bad for you, too. If you're so broken up about your wife dying for nothing, make it something. Do something with your life, and be happy. If she'd give up her life for this kingdom, she might have just fucking done it for you." 

Quirrel looks over and stares at Kirir. She looks back, but immediately gets uncomfortable and looks away. Good thing she did, because Quirrel looks back at the lake, letting his tears fall. Alright, he thought, alright. Maybe he'd use the chance, the time Monomon bought him for something useful beyond pathetic mourning. 

They are quiet for the rest of the night, until Kirir leans back all the way and falls asleep in the lush grass in front of the Teacher's Archives. Quirrel stands then and hobbles back into the Archives, bringing her a blanket. He sits next to her sleeping form and drinks until the oomas began floating out of the acid lake, denoting whatever morningtime Fog Canyon ever got.


End file.
